refrigerator?
sofa?
vacuum?
car?
No. You know better.
We have a new pet.
A kitten.
Yes, I am a "whorder" badly in need of a 12 step program but I will thank you to keep your judgements to yourself.
You will judge me less harshly, I pray, when I tell you she was a little orphan kitty in the dairy barn at the farm where we get our milk.
And here's how it all went down. Because I am mentally retarded.
While waiting in the milking parlor for Katie to fill my milk jug, I looked through the window to the barn and noticed movement. It was her little boy, playing with something on the floor.
I went into the barn and saw him playing with three little kitty cats, cute as could be. Two calicos and a tuxedo.
A smart woman would have quickly closed the door and made like she saw nothing.
But I am not a smart woman.
So what do I do?
I call my girls over to come see.
I call my girls over to come see.
Like I said. Mentally retarded.
So Rosie comes over and like, dissolves into a puddle right there in a milking stall.
And goes,
canwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveone
And I'm like, NO, are you crazy child?
And she's like,
canwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveone
And all over again, I say
.....no.....
And then she starts going,
pleaseprettypleaseIpromiseI'llhelptakecareofherpleaseprettypleaseIpromiseI'llhelptakecareofherpleaseprettypleaseIpromiseI'llhelptakecareofherpleaseprettypleaseIpromiseI'llhelptakecareofher
And then real firm like, I say
Call your father.
So then she's
And then
And the next thing I know we're driving home with our two gallons of milk and our kitty.
Her name is Milky, btw.
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